


Third Wheel

by MechBull



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 17:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6713443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MechBull/pseuds/MechBull
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mack is happy for Fitz and Simmons. He just would like to get back to the Playground without having to hear Too Much Information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Third Wheel

After securing the last of the equipment, Mack looked at his watch. The delay was getting frustrating and more than a little worrying. He expected to at least have heard from Simmons by now, letting him know they were en route to the Quinjet. Mack wondered if Turbo had even made it back to the room yet.

He hoped he hadn’t been hurt or taken. 

He really hoped Jemma hadn’t gone out to look for him. 

The best case scenario, really, was that the two of them had taken another page from the Morse-Hunter Spy Handbook and were “debriefing” in the hotel room. 

Mack simultaneously wanted to shudder and smile at the thought. He was very happy for his friends, had seen this coming for months and was glad they were finally on the same page. They had both been through too much not to grab onto happiness with both hands.

That didn’t mean he wanted to think about them grabbing onto anything else with those hands. 

And it certainly didn’t mean they could just take all the time in the world to do so. They needed to get back to the Playground, regroup and figure out what their next plan was for stopping Hive and getting Daisy back. Mack looked at his watch again. And then he exhaled in relief when his phone rang.

“Yeah?” he answered.

“Oh, hello, Mack,” Jemma responded.

She sounded odd. Relaxed and uncharacteristically scatterbrained, which might explain why she seemed almost surprised that he answered his own phone. 

“Simmons, everything OK? Fitz – ”

“He’s here,” Jemma confirmed. “Just, um, cleaning up a bit.”

From the chaos at the club, Mack tried to convince himself.

“We’ll be heading out soon.” There was a pause and then the muffled sound of voices on the other end. “I’ll ask,” Jemma said into the receiver, before continuing with, “Fitz wants to order room service. Did you want us to bring you anything?”

Mack lifted his free hand to rub at his eyes. _Room service._ Good grief. 

“It will probably be a while before we get a chance to eat,” Jemma pointed out, somewhere between maternal and defensive. “And you know how grumpy Fitz can get when he’s hungry.”

Boy, did he ever, but Mack was pretty sure Fitz would be in a good mood the rest of the night. Rest of his life, probably. For the first time since they lost Bobbi and Hunter, Mack was thankful they weren’t there. He didn’t want to hear Hunter’s comments about hungers being satisfied and what Fitz might have eaten for an appetizer. Mack grimaced, then shook his head, forcing himself to focus on his conversation with Jemma.

“Chicken, I guess, if they have any.”

“Sandwich? Soup?”

“I’m more of a wing man,” Mack said, tongue firmly in cheek.

There was a pause and then peals of laughter from Jemma. Mack grinned. He could hear Fitz asking what was so funny, and then more muffled conversation between them, and then a rather shriek-y “He knows?!” Mack couldn’t stop his chuckle then.

“Hurry up and get back here,” he said, trying to sound gruff. Then he hung up, because he really did not want to hear anymore.

They finally arrived well after Mack hoped they would, and he chose to believe the room service took longer than expected rather than that they…got distracted again. He also chose to believe that their clothes were rumpled because it had been a long, fight-filled night, and that was also why Fitz looked three-quarters asleep, that the stubble burn on Jemma’s face and neck was just a flush from the cool night air, and that she absolutely did not have sex hair.

Mack’s powers of denial could be pretty impressive at times.

He took the bag of food from them and waved them onto the plane, shouting ahead to the pilot who prepared for takeoff. Fitz dropped into the nearest seat, and Jemma sat right next to him, twisting closer to him until their knees touched. He offered her a small smile, and Jemma leaned her head back and let her eyes drift closed.

Mack fought a grin even as he struggled against the vague loneliness and disappointment he had been feeling ever since, well, everything had gone to _mierda_. At that thought, Mack shook his head and reached into the bag. He pulled out the container and savored the smell a moment before the pilot called back to them.

“There’s a storm brewing, so buckle up. Takeoff’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

Mack heard Jemma snicker. He glanced up and watched as she leaned closer to Fitz. “Already had one of those tonight, didn’t I?” she asked in a voice not nearly as quiet as she apparently thought it was.

“Shh,” Fitz replied, turning to smile at her with his big heart eyes even as the blush rose on his face. 

Mack stifled a groan. Forget a shotgun axe. He was gonna need someone to invent brain bleach for him.


End file.
